bibliophale: (Default)
Aziraphale ([personal profile] bibliophale) wrote in [community profile] bigapplesauce2014-12-23 01:58 pm

Back On The Welcome Wagon [closed]

Aziraphale has kept his head down for the most part as he works at the Base, but lately, with Illyria having been at his shop, and now Crowley more or less avoiding him and Melanie still seeming guilty, it's been a bit of a blessing to go to work there. He sits quietly at his desk, entering data about new registrants, blessedly undisturbed.

Nearing the end of his shift, which comes early, due to his tendency to come in at the literal crack of dawn, one of his superiors stops by his desk.

"Your shift ends in five, right?" she asks.

"Er - yes." He blinks up at her, wondering if he'll be asked to stay on. Wouldn't be such a hardship.

"Are you heading to the apartments?"

He nods, frowning, perplexed.

"Great." She checks her watch. "Would you mind escorting one of the new recruits over there with you? We're just finishing up with him now. He'll have the keys to a new place, if you could show him around a bit, make sure he knows how to use his phone?"

Aziraphale doesn't tell her how comical it is that she wants him to help someone with those accursed so-called 'smartphones'. He nods calmly, getting to his feet.

"How recently did he arrive?" he wonders.

"Yesterday," she says. "And he's not from around here. If you know what I mean."

Well, none of them are. That isn't terribly informative. But Aziraphale will find out the rest for himself easily enough.

"I'll have him wait by the west entrance," she says. "Thanks so much, Az."

He resists the deep urge to quiver with irritation at the nickname. He is going to have to find a way to politely keep that from happening while acknowledging that yes, he knows his name is weird and difficult, and he's sorry about it, but please.

He shuts down his computer and gathers his umbrella, which he's taken to carrying no matter what after the previous rain incident - an affectation that only makes him look gayer, more academic, and more English according to certain of his acquaintances1 - and heads toward the western path out.

It's not difficult to spot his charge, with his unusual facial markings, glowing eyes, oddly shaped and asymmetrical ears, and those clothes. He barely bats an eyelash at it, stepping over to the flamboyant little man and greeting him with, "Hallo. I'm to be your escort, it seems." He offers his hand. "Aziraphale. Pleased to meet you."


1 Essentially up for grabs. If you're acquainted and you might have said this, you did.
amourtician: (but jack comes tumbling after)

[personal profile] amourtician 2014-12-26 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
Jay smiles at Aziraphale, though it's visibly strained. He's getting very tired of dealing with official representatives. This one looks rather harassed, to boot, so Jay doesn't expect much sympathy or help.

He reminds himself that the alternative is dealing with the government and hitches his smile up a few notches.

"Jay Zimin, darling," he says, crisply. He gives Aziraphale a shallow bow and only then takes his hand. His grip is weak.
amourtician: (but jack comes tumbling after)

[personal profile] amourtician 2015-02-09 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Jay follows Aziraphale, trying not to let his skepticism show on his face. He's not particularly confident that he'll be taken care of, but he feels like arguing the point won't do much good at all. He decides to put his reservations and hang-ups aside - for now, at least - and trust his guide.

He doesn't listen too closely to Aziraphale, at first, but then something catches his attention.

"Er, fly?" he says, eyebrow raised. "I had no idea this place was ... so advanced."
amourtician: (take your lonely hands off me)

[personal profile] amourtician 2015-02-19 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Personal skill? Jay looks at Aziraphale doubtfully, not quite trusting him. Instantaneous flight sounds too good to be true and thus probably is. There must be some sort of catch. Things like instantaneous flight to anywhere do not exist without some really hideous other shoe, waiting to drop. He takes a small step back.

"Ahhh, that really does sound wonderful," he says, and then gives a nervous titter that gives lie to his words, "but first, do tell me: what's the price?" He cocks an eyebrow at Aziraphale, bracing himself for an offended reaction. Dispensers of miracles, in Jay's experience, do not take well to those miracles being questioned.
amourtician: (but jack comes tumbling after)

[personal profile] amourtician 2015-02-22 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Jay frowns at Aziraphale. "Angel" is an entirely meaningless word to him. Why an angel should have wings is entirely opaque. He cocks his head to one side, like a curious bird and raises an eyebrow. It's as much of an implied challenge as a question.

"An angel, huh?" he says, languidly. He's loath to reveal his ignorance. It's best to keep as many cards as he can close to his chest, he figures - something about the Rift and this strange new city has put him on edge, made him paranoid. "Well, darling, you can show off your wings to me later, in as ... ah, as private a setting as you want." It could be interpreted as lazy flirting. Or it could just be Jay being himself. "But I suppose if there's no catch, we should take the quickest route."
Edited 2015-02-22 21:51 (UTC)
amourtician: (head bowed)

[personal profile] amourtician 2015-03-04 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Jay takes a wobbly step away from Aziraphale and looks around, bewildered. They're somewhere completely different and he barely had time to blink. He shudders, unsettled, and looks up at the Rebel apartment building, taking it in.

"Yes," he says, a little hollowly. "Ah. My new home ..." he sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "You know, I still ... I keep hoping I'll ... wake up and be back ... you know, back home. With ... with my sister ..." He takes a deep, shuddering breath and bites his lip as his throat constricts and tears come up to his eyes. "Oh Lord--"

He doesn't want to cry in public. Not now. He's too genuinely upset, too bereft, to want anyone to know about it.